Chapter 10
Ten
Elliot whistles as he steps into Crystals & Sundry. “That’s a lot of candles,” he says, tipping his head up in wonder at the rows of handmade candles.
I nod proudly. I have candles in every color of the rainbow, in every size and shape, and in every scent you can ever imagine (and some abstract scents like ‘Moonlight Sonata’ and ‘Valley of Venus’ that you can’t even comprehend and will need several whiffs to comprehend it).
“Ah yes,” Elliot comes upon a small section toward the front of the store, next to the Christmas tree and the holiday candle display. “The crystal section. This is the biggest purple rock I’ve ever seen.”
“An amethyst,” I correct him, “from Uruguay.”
“Right, right, right,” he says.
“Not a lot of crystals by comparison,” he says, eyeing the whimsical hand-printed sign on the window, ‘Crystals & Sundry.’
I know there’s some irony that my gift shop is called Crystals & Sundry, yet has over a thousand varieties of candles but a selection of ‘carefully curated’ crystals.
“The Crystal Shortage of ’21 almost made me lose my shirt,” I remind him. “I’m still trying to make up the inventory.”
As it was an hour before opening on a Monday morning, the shop was empty and dark.
I pick up a fallen ornament and pop it back on the Christmas tree.
Unlike my traditional tree at home, my store tree is pale violet with navy tinsel and dripping with silver crescent moons.
The walls are papered in a deep, rich purple and inlaid with golden celestial motifs.
In the afternoon, the giant maple outside casts its shade over the store, turning it into a cozy witches’ cave.
This morning, Elliot was hellbent on visiting my gift shop. The amber must have roused something in him and now he’s got a taste for gemstones. That’s just my assumption. He certainly seemed entranced by my giant amethyst geode, circling it like he expected a dinosaur to pop out of it.
“There’s another half,” I say, coming up behind him. “A bigger half, if you can believe it.”
“What happened to it?” Elliot says, peeking at the price tag. He whistles. “Too rich for me.”
“Sold it before I had a chance to display it.”
He whirls around, impressed. “Who bought it?”
I chew on my inner cheek. “Someone with spectacular taste,” I say, trying to sound mysterious.
Elliot shoots me a peevish side-eye. “Is there an NDA involved in the sale of crystals?”
“No...”
“Then who bought it?”
Okay. I’ll bite. I really want to tell. “The mayor himself.”
Elliot’s eyebrows leap an inch. “Mayor Thornberry?”
“The one and only.”
He snorts, amused. “I never took him for a crystal collector.”
“He’s not only a gemstone lover,” I say, “he’s my best customer. Every time I have a new shipment, he snatches up the most expensive stones before they even hit shelves.”
Tucking his hands in his pockets, Elliot circles the giant geode again. “Are all your crystals this steep?”
“I mean, they’re rare,” I shrug. “I offer him friend prices, of course. Ten percent off. These are smaller ones.” I gesture to the crystal display. “Ivan snatches up the bigger ones. He likes them big and bold. Have you seen his home?”
“I haven’t had the pleasure. It’s the mansion off Belladonna Lane?” Out comes his notepad. “You’re on pretty good terms with Ivan Thornberry, incumbent mayor… your competitor.” He pauses. “Friendly?”
“Yeah, I suppose we are,” I nod, considering our relationship.
“We’re friendly. Not besties or anything.
Friendly neighborhood acquaintances and colleagues.
He sees me at the small business council every Tuesday and, of course,” I wave a hand to his notebook, “you know he was a guest at Thanksgiving. But I don’t think he did it. ”
He scratches the back of his ear with his pen. “Why not?”
“Ivan’s a dignified member of Mapledale,” I say, thinking of Mayor Thornberry’s salt and pepper hair and navy sports jacket.
“I can’t imagine him dropping trow and defecating under a Christmas tree.
I’ve known him all my life. I used to intern for him in high school.
He wrote my college recommendation letters and obviously,” I gesture to the crystal case, “he’s my best customer. ”
“That’s high praise for the man whom you also said,” he flips to the beginning of his notebook, “and I quote… ‘Ivan’s been mayor for eight years. A term that long sounds like a dictatorship.’”
“Did I say that?”
He nods. “I have the voice recording.”
“Well, it’s true. Ivan’s been running this town for a while and it’s time for some fresh blood and new ideas. No offense to him—I love him to bits — but he’s kind of phoning it in, if you know what I mean.”
Elliot mashes his lips together, tactfully refusing to comment on Ivan’s tenure as mayor. “I take it that this is going to be a friendly election?”
“Of course,” I nod confidently. “It was Ivan’s idea that I run.”
He arches a quizzical brow and flips to another page of his notebook. “I’m all ears.”
I tuck a strand of hair behind my ears. “I’m going to swap out the old summer candles for the new batch of holiday scented ones,” I say. “Join me?”
Elliot helps me cart boxes of new inventory to the front. I nimbly climb a ladder and empty the top shelf, passing jars down to Elliot in exchange for new ones.
“I guess I had so many ideas that we were running overtime at the council meetings.”
“Why am I not surprised,” he says dryly.
I ignore his jab and continue, “So Ivan suggested that I try running for mayor so I can implement my ideas…”
“How did he say that exactly,” Elliot asks, “do you remember his tone?”
I think for a moment. “He said something in the vein of: ‘Why don’t you try running for mayor and see how easy it is’ and then he mumbled something under his breath.”
“Mumbled something about you?”
“I don’t remember. I couldn’t hear very well seeing as I was still talking.
” I blink for a moment. An unsettling feeling settles over me.
I could be mistaken. In fact, I know I’m mistaken.
It sounded like Ivan had mumbled, ‘shut up already.’ But he couldn’t have.
Ivan would never tell me to shut up. He’s too dignified for that.
I glare down at Elliot. There he goes again, planting seeds of doubt in my head. But it did sound like ‘shut up already.’
“On second thought,” I say, “he seemed pretty grumpy when he said it, but the meeting ran into dinner time and he’s a grouch when he doesn’t eat. Low blood sugar and such…”
Elliot purses his lips. “Doesn’t sound like he was encouraging you to run for mayor.”
I frown. “Well, whatever the reason, I’m running now and Ivan’s been very supportive.”
“Has he?”
“He sent me flowers,” I say, glancing over my shoulders, “and a card.”
As I climb down the ladder, Elliot steps back and shuts his notebook. “When I interrogate Mayor Thornberry,” he says, with a hint of mischief, “I’m going to ask him what he does with all his crystals.”
“You’ll find out for yourself. Ivan hosts a New Year’s Eve ball every year and I always attend.”
“Naturally,” he says dryly.
Ignoring his jab, I sparkle over the prospect of finally having a dashing albeit glowering Plus One.
“As my new fake boyfriend, you’re my date.
Then you can see Ivan’s crystal collection for yourself.
They’re all over his home. In the entryway.
The backyard. Mounted on the wall. He has a china cabinet overflowing with them. Ivan’s even got a statue of himself —”
“Chiseled out of crystal?”
“Chiseled out of stone.” What a silly thing to say. Whoever heard of a statue chiseled entirely out of crystal. “Embedded with amethysts and citrine.”
“A statue of himself?” Shoving his hands in his pockets, Elliot wanders to the autumn candle display at the window.
“This town’s full of eccentric characters,” he mutters, pinching a faux maple leaf between his fingers.
“Weird. A town full of weirdos.” He glances over his shoulders and gives me a meaningful once over. “Must be something in the water.”
I snort. “Are you implying that I’m weird?”
With a lopsided smile, he drops the maple leaf and gestures to my gift shop. “You’re running for mayor. What does that tell you?”
“That I have a good head on my shoulders?”
His eyes narrow into skeptical slits, but the humor doesn’t leave his lips. “Lady, you peddle crystals and candles for a living—”
“People have to get their candles and crystals somewhere,” I sniff, affronted. “I don’t think that’s so unusual. It’s an honest living, dealing in cozy scents and gemstone healing. You know what I find weird?”
He tilts his head to the side. “I’m sure you’re about to tell me.”
I’ve only really known Elliot for a few days and pretended to date him for even less, but it feels like we’re an old married couple. We bicker and banter like we’ve been married for fifty years.
Sometimes I daydream about divorce…
It was his wry smile that stopped me from becoming completely offended. Elliot’s smile is a secret message. He’s just messing around with me, playfully jabbing to get a rise out of me.
Wait…
Is he flirting with me?
I blow a strand of hair out of my face. “Insurance fraud investigation,” I snort, “what kind of job is that?”
“It’s exactly as it sounds,” he says. “I investigate insurance fraud.”
“Likely story,” I mutter.
Elliot laughs. “What story? It’s the truth. This is what I do…” He pauses. “Did for a living.”
“It doesn’t sound very exciting,” I say, “Shuffling papers around.”
“It has its moments,” he counters, “but no more paper. I can scan the fine print in a PDF like that…” He snaps his fingers.
I know he’s just talking about PDF files and boring legal jargon, but why does that sound so… hot?
I tip my chin up. “What kind of insurance?”